There's No Dignity in Death
by areyouthere
Summary: ...and in Cameron's case there's no truth either. Cameron struggles with the realisation that her husband is still alive and in PPTH. CHAPTER 13 NOW UP!
1. Face your Fears

_Disclaimer: None of the characters etc are mine; I'm just taking them out for an airing during the break between series 1 and 2._

_Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction, so comments are definitely welcome. I've decided to edit and republish it after choosing to change the story's outcome. This fiction is set between the end of series 1 and the beginning of series 2. I'm aware that more of Cameron and her husband's back-story has already been told in America, but I'm in the UK where we have only seen five episodes of series 2 and none at the original time of writing, so I apologise for any inconsistencies. Finally I'm a British writer so I'll be using British spellings.

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A cold and stony sun shone weakly over the entrance to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. A ground frost had fallen the night before and the car park still sparkled like silver glitter. Allison Cameron took a moment to appreciate the sight before locking up her Ford, knowing that she wouldn't leave the building until after nightfall.

As she entered the hospital Allison's train of thought was interrupted by someone calling out her name. The tall form of Dr James Wilson crossed her path. She smiled at him, but her friendly gesture quickly changed when she saw his expression. "What is it?" she asked, worriedly noting the patient file he held.

"House's patient, Mr…" Wilson checked the front of the file, "Michael Smith, you know him?"

"I've helped in his treatment if that's what you mean," Wilson's apparent inability to get to the point only increasing Cameron's suspicion.

"Yes, then you'll know House had me check him out for cancer. The results are back. He has bladder cancer."

"Oh," Cameron gulped, "that would explain the blood in his urine, and his pain while urinating. I just always assumed it was kidney stones."

"Even though House had lab tests for that straight away, and they came back negative?" the older doctor struggled to hide the surprise in his voice.

Dr Cameron coughed nervously. "I'm entitled to my medical opinion. Anything could have caused that test to give a false result."

"That's beside the point." Wilson was starting to become annoyed at his colleague's insistence that she had the correct diagnosis, "The patient's tests have come back positive for bladder cancer. He has got bladder cancer." Wilson stressed the latter sentence to get his message across to Cameron, who seamed deaf to his diagnosis. "Even if he also has kidney stones, which I believe to be highly unlikely as by now the patient would be showing much more extreme signs of pain, we need to begin treatment."

"Fine. Why are you telling me this anyway, he's House's patient so tell him," Cameron was quite put out by Wilson's forceful dismissal of her ideas. She fought hard not to demonstrate it, but cracks were already beginning to show.

"I already have. He agrees with the diagnosis, and suggests having the patient transferred to the Oncology Department for further tests to discover what stage the cancer is at. I've organised the transfer for this afternoon, which leaves just one thing left to be done."

"Which is…?" Cameron prompted.

"House wants you to give the news to the patient."

Cameron faltered. She hated doing this. Every time she told a patient that they had cancer, or were going to die, or a patient's family that their son or daughter would never be the same again no matter how hard they tried to deny any change she remembered he own painful experiences through her husband's illness. Eventually she managed to bring herself to question his decision. "Why?" she asked.

"He seemed to think you were the best person for the job," Wilson looked perplexed as to why his friend would have chosen Cameron over himself. After all, cancer was his speciality. Surely the patient would want to discuss their future with someone who knew something about cancer, rather than an immunologist.

"_Oh I bet he did," _Dr Cameron thought. She knew that House had only made the decision to spite her. Undoubtedly she had done something to annoy him again, or he was just in one of his moods. He knew fully well her reasons for not wanting to give such news to a patient. Not once did it occur to Cameron that House might have made this decision to help her. She never thought that he might have been trying to make her learn to give bad news.

"Look," Wilson's voice was serious, "I understand that you may not want to do this. Cancer isn't exactly your speciality and you may not know much about what he has." Cameron smiled weakly to indicate that this was indeed true. "I have a few minutes before clinic duty. I'll come with you if you go now."

Gracious to have the opportunity to effectively work her way out of giving the bad news Cameron accepted, knowing the Oncologist would want take over from her very quickly so that he could clearly explain the next steps. Once inside the elevator Wilson began to explain the possible treatments to Cameron. She listened attentively, truly believing that she would not be the one passing this information on to the patient.

"If the cancer's still in its early stages it should only take a minor operation to remove, and possibly a short course of medication depending on the tumour. However, if the case is more developed he may need radiotherapy, or, in the worst case scenario, an operation to remove the bladder." Cameron took in a deep breath and Wilson paused.

"I assume he would need a catheter and urine bag afterwards," Wilson nodded in agreement. "So what exactly are the patient's prospects?" Cameron asked carefully, not entirely sure whether she wanted to hear the answer.

"We currently believe the cancer to be in its early stages. Even though bladder cancer is extremely rare in people of his age, things are looking quite good for him at this point. If we are correct, Mr Smith should have about an eighty five percent chance of living over five years."

Cameron didn't quite catch herself smiling in time to hide it from Wilson. He looked at her dead in the eyes. "Please don't stress this point too much. Although the patient needs to remain positive I don't want to give him or his family false hope."

Dr Cameron nodded and looked at the floor. She didn't know whether she could do that. The doors to the elevator slid open and Wilson groaned. "House is at the bottom of the corridor. He'll kill me if I go in there with you. He was adamant that you should do this alone."

Shaken, Cameron slowly stepped out of the elevator and into the Department of Diagnostic Medicine. She turned to face Wilson and saw the certainty etched across his face. "I'm sorry. Remember what I told you," he noticed just how nervous Cameron was. "Look confident, he's watching you. Do you want him to think you can do your job or not?" Wilson's words were slightly harsher than he had intended, but he could not believe that Cameron wasn't used doing this by now.

Overcome with a sudden wave of bravery Alison Cameron took her first steps towards the glass door of the patient's room. She could do this, she knew it. She was aware that she looked bad to Wilson, and she was desperate to be a good doctor. _"No more letting my husband stand in the way of my career,"_ she thought.

Another few steps and Cameron was almost at the door. Suddenly, a nurse pushed past with a trolley, momentarily blocking her way. Cameron glanced down, assuming the occupant would be her next patient. When she saw his face she couldn't, wouldn't, believe her eyes. "Oh my God," the words were barely a whisper. Without a second thought she fled down the corridor.

Gob smacked, Wilson turned to Dr House, who was making his way down the corridor towards him. "Why did she do that?" he asked.

An almost smug expression on his face, House replied with his usual cold sarcasm. "Dead husband. Caused her to develop a fear of the terminally ill."


	2. Should Have is Never Enough

**Author's Disclaimer: See chapter 1.**

**Note :Chapter 2 now edited. All chapters (1-9) should be completely edited by the end of Monday and will be closely followed by a brand new chapter! I'm trying to keep most of Cameron's story secret for now, more will be revealed in future chapters. I've also implied something about Cuddy's motivations for sending patients to House. These are not my personal views, but I don't intend to pretend that people don't think badly of others just to keep the characters lovable. Please keep the comments coming. I love to hear your views.

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Hidden inside a toilet stall, Allison Cameron wiped away the final few tears. She didn't truly understand why she had cried. It was not out of fear for what she was about to do, nor out of sadness for the patient. If anything it had been out of confusion. For the face she had seen being wheeled into a room was undoubtedly that of her late husband. Or was he late? Allison shook that childish thought from her head. Of course he was. He was dead - she had attended his funeral.

The new patient must have been his brother, or perhaps she had just hallucinated under the stress of giving a patient bad news. For some reason that didn't feel right. She recalled the sudden wave of bravery she had felt just before fleeing and couldn't understand why she would react negatively to such a positive experience.

Cameron left the toilets and made her way to the conference room, where she kept some emergency make-up. As she went to close her compact after reapplying her cosmetics, Cameron caught the reflection of somebody standing at the back of the room. She snapped it shut and whirled around. It was House.

He watched her for a moment before speaking, summing up her immaculate appearance and trying to decipher what lay behind it. "You can't run away forever," House's first words to her were spoken softly, perhaps even nervously. Although it pained him to admit it he knew Cameron was a good doctor and didn't wish to exploit her weaknesses like this. He knew that if she continued this behaviour Cuddy may force him to find a more able doctor, but he was happy with his current team.

"I know," Cameron was looking at the floor. She couldn't bring herself to think about what the consequences of her actions would be if this developed into a long term problem.

"How long has it been since your husband's death?" House stared at her, his crystal eyes burning through her defences and slowly fighting their way to the truth.

"I…I don't know," even Cameron was stunned by her reaction.

"For God's sake Cameron. That guy has hung over your life since the day he died. Surely you know when that was. What kind of crappy wife were you?" House shouted. His frustration was evident, but Cameron wasn't going to give him what he wanted.

"I was a good wife. I helped him to fight his illness for a year, and when his time came I sat by his bedside holding his hand. I loved him with all my heart." Her eyes pricked with tears. House thought this was because she was being emotional again, but Cameron knew it was because she hadn't told the truth. She should have been at his bedside. She should have told him she loved him as he took his final breath. She should have been there to say goodbye. But she wasn't. House was right, she had been a crap wife, but she had loved him. That was why his death hung over her and refused to loosen its grip on her life.

Cameron headed for the door. "Seven years on Tuesday," she muttered as she stepped out into the corridor.

The nurse that had nearly hit Cameron with the ward's newest patient's trolley earlier was just leaving his room after getting him settled in. Needing to clear up his identity once and for all she called her over. "New patient, Nurse Roberts?"

The nurse nodded and handed her the patient's file. "Owen Miller, thirty two year old male. Turned up at the clinic this morning complaining of abdominal discomfort. He fainted before an examination could take place. He was admitted immediately."

"Then why is he here? He doesn't even have enough symptoms to be a difficult diagnosis. It could be just indigestion coupled with fatigue for all the symptoms tell us - it's not exactly complex."

"He's rich," Nurse Roberts' answer was simple but Cameron understood. It was always the case that rich patients ended up in the Diagnostics Department before anyone else. They had heard of House's reputation and wanted the best treatment. Cameron sometimes wondered whether Cuddy directed the more complex, well-off, cases here knowing that they would leave with their wallets considerably lighter. House didn't like to scrimp on the diagnostic tests.

"Ah, well thank you." As the nurse walked down the corridor Cameron checked the name one the file to see if it matched the one she had just given her. It did. Allison wondered what she was expecting it to say. What did it matter if the names were different anyway, the nurse had probably just got mixed up with another patient. She flatly denied what the nagging little voice in the back of her head was saying "You were looking for Mark Holloway."

Cameron took one last look at the department's newest patient's stats before entering his room. Not looking up from the file she introduced herself to him. "Hello Mr Miller, I'm Dr Cameron. I will be one of the doctors working with Dr House on your case. I believe you've been suffering from pains in your abdomen. Would you mind showing me where exactly?"

Allison looked up, to be confronted by a face she hadn't seen for six years. They shared mirrored expressions of shock for a moment before the he broke into a fake grin. "Hello Allison."


	3. Diers and Liars

**Disclaimer - See chapter 1.**

**Author's Note – Chapter 3 edited. This time I canged quite a bit and added a lot too. As I said when this chapter was originally published, I'm aware that this story is rather unusual, but I wanted to do something a little different. I needed Cameron's husband to return to help develop the plot. I also apologise if this chapter is a little out of character, but it is rather difficult to imagine somebody's reaction to such a situation.

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Allison stared at the man sat in the bed in front of her. To anyone else he would look like just another patient, dressed in the regulation hospital gown with a slightly paler than usual face. But to Allison he was someone else completely. While some of his features had changed – his dark blonde hair had grown to below his ears and his nose looked as though it had been broken at some point – he looked otherwise the same as when she had last seen him. The familiar scar bellow his left eye from when he fell off his bike aged eight, his dark brown eyes that could be so warm when they wanted, even the way he said her name reminded her of a life before House, Princeton, or even being a doctor.

"Mark. It really is you." Cameron held her head in confusion and embarrassment. How could it be? She'd just blurted that sentence out to a complete stranger without even stopping to think.

"Yes." Allison didn't believe his reply for one moment. She wasn't even surprised that the stranger had agreed with her statement. She was so confused that all emotion and expectation had drained away from her.

"No…you're…you're dead." Cameron stumbled over the words, not believing that she was having this conversation. Feeling her legs going numb she reached for the end of the bed to support herself. She forced herself to look at the man's face again, at the face she had once adored. The face of her husband.

"Allison, I can explain." The man seemed nervous. He obviously hadn't planned this meeting and was desperately trying to find a way to escape.

Cameron completely lost her cool. All the sadness for her husband's apparent death had suddenly and painfully switched to anger. "_You can explain?_" she hissed furiously, _"You can explain? _How can you _possibly_ explain _this_? You are _dead_. I'm standing at the end of a bed in the hospital where I am considered a respectable member of staff talking to what is most probably thin air. Any minute now somebody is going to come here and wheel me off to the psych ward. And you know what? I'll be glad when they do. Because at least that won't mean I've been married to some sick son of a bitch who thinks it is _funny _to pretend he has _died_." she paused for breath, which gave her husband time to talk.

"Allison, honey-"

"Don't you _dare_-"

"OK, not ready for any reconciliation." All Cameron could do was glare. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I wanted to stay with you, I promise."

By now Allison had come to terms with the reality of the situation. Her husband was alive. It was her dream had come true, only now it was a nightmare. "Somehow, promises aren't good enough anymore. Perhaps it had something to do with that whole wedding vow thing. I'd call that a pretty big promise that somehow you couldn't keep. 'Till death do us part' ring any bells? So excuse me if I don't believe you anymore."

"Technically I did die."

"And yet here you are - alive," Cameron spat.

"Only just," those two words brought her back down to earth. She tried to convince herself that this man was like any other patient. He needed her help. She just didn't know if she could give it him.

"Look, we have a lot to talk over," the bed's occupant tried desperately to calm the angered doctor down. He had been so happy with his life since he had 'left' Cameron. Now here she was, and he had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. He knew she would never believe him - she was too proud. He couldn't pretend that he wouldn't partly enjoy the pain she would feel when he revealed the truth. But there was something else nagging at the back of his mind. Now he had been found out, he wondered for the first time had what he had done been _legal_?

"You think?" Cameron couldn't remember a time when she had been more annoyed, "I don't even know your name anymore."

"It's still Mark. I gave a fake name to that nurse. I guess I've always been a little jumpy around hospitals since I…" he tailed off.

"Faked your death?" Cameron finished his sentence off for him.

Mark ignored her last comment. "So your Dr Cameron now?"

"Well seeing as that _is_ my name-" She was beginning to take on House's sarcasm on as a defence of her own. It had always worked for him, but she was struggling to fight back. Her pride, her dignity, had taken a hard knock, not to mention her already fragile emotional state. She was barely able to stand up for herself.

"It's not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, technically you're still Allison Holloway," Mark smirked slightly at the look of horror on her face.

"You mean we're still married?" Allison trembled at the thought. All these years she had wished to be reunited with her husband. Now she dreamed of having never met him. It's funny how your hopes can turn on you in a moment.

"Well you didn't get any divorce papers did you? Nope, you're still Mrs Holloway. _Dr _Holloway." He corrected himself.

Cameron shook herself. "_He's stalling you idiot. He's trying to distract you with the petty details. Concentrate on the truth," _she told herself. "Isn't it time you started that explaining? There seems to be a lot of it so you'd better make a start," she tried hard to regain control of the conversation.

"I-." The sound of Cameron's pager going off interrupted Mark. She looked down to read what it said and sighed.

"I've got to go," Cameron partly cursed House and partly praised him. While she wanted to hear the truth about such a huge event in her life, she was also unsure of how much longer she could spend in Mark's presence. She despised him, but right now she didn't truly know why.

"Her master calls," Mark called after her in a mock aristocratic accent. Cameron sighed. She really wasn't going to enjoy the next few days, and right now she had a lot of things to worry about, never mind her husbands annoying remarks.


	4. Too Many Questions to Care

**Disclaimer - See chapter 1.**

**AN – Firstly, thanks for the reviews. It's encouraging to see that people still have an interest in this story. Please keep them coming. This chapter is a flashback to Cameron's final year at Med School. I've made a small reference to something that is revealed in series 2, even though I've not seen that episode (I think it's aired here on Thursday), so sorry for the spoiler. It is not meant to have anything to do with that story - it's just a coincidence that I had the same idea. When I first wrote this I was unaware that it would actually happen. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. The next one should also be up today.

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**_January 3rd 1999 - Philadelphia International Airport_**

_Alison Cameron hurriedly pulled her dark hair into a ponytail as she rushed out of the airport arrivals lounge and into the taxi waiting outside, dragging her case behind her. She looked tired, her pale face contrasting with the dark crescents underneath her eyes. Her face was free of makeup, which only intensified the look of worry on her face. _

_She slung her hand luggage inside the cab as the driver put her suitcase into the boot. As he replaced himself at the driver's seat she instructed him to take her to her husband's best friend's house._

_As the car pulled away Allison thought over the events of the last 24 hours. She'd been spending the Christmas break from medical school with her sister at her home in the UK, getting to know her newborn niece. Not long after she had got up that morning a phone call came through from James. He was the man whose house she was travelling to now, and the person her sick husband had been staying with while she was away. The phone call brought bad news. Mark had taken a sudden turn for the worse. James was worried for his health, but Mark insisted on staying put. He didn't want anymore medical treatment._

_Allison had flown back on the first flight out of London. Desperate to get home, she had left half of her belongings with her sister to save time and prayed that her husband would change his mind and go to hospital. She knew the cancer had been attacking his brain for some time now, but he seemed to be improving._

"Why?_" she thought. "_Why now? Why when I'm so far away, too far away to help him?_" Her eyes began to prick with tears. Conscious of being watched by the taxi driver, she turned to look outside. The cheery Christmas decorations adorning the homes failed to break her disheartened spirit. There was a feeling of dread inside her. For the first time in her life, Alison had to face the harsh reality that she would not be with Mark forever and that "Till death do us part" really wasn't that far away._

_As the cab pulled up outside James' house the door opened. "Allison, thank God you're here," he too looked pale._

"_How…how is he?" she stumbled over her words, not truly wanting to know his answer._

"_I'm sorry," James look sympathetic. Before he could continue Allison broke down into tears._

"_No…no…," her voice was barely more than a whisper and a look of confusion engulfed her face, "he was fine before I left for London. He can't…no…how? How did it happen?" She fixed her mind on this question among all the confused and distressed thoughts speeding through her head. Allison turned her head towards James and he saw her eyes brimming with tears. Red circles had already begun to form around them._

"_Come inside and sit down. I'll get you a cup of tea and explain things." As James made his way into the small kitchen Allison made a few shaky steps inside before collapsing onto the sofa. She stared at the coffee table, but didn't take it in. Her mind was rushing with thoughts. Her life was over. Her hopes for a family were over. Her dreams of having a healthy husband would never come true. She was cold. An icy chill was engulfing her like nothing she had ever felt before._

_A warm hand touched Allison's shoulder as a blue mug filled with steaming tea broke into her line of sight. She smiled gratefully at James and took a deep gulp from it as he sat next to her. She could taste the sugar he had added to it. Normally she would have turned it away but this time she took another gulp. It warmed her veins again and settled her nerves._

"_What do you want to know?" James asked. He was staring at the wall, seemingly uncomfortable to be in this position._

"_What happened?"_

_James swallowed hard before beginning his story. "Very early this morning Mark woke up in a pretty bad way. He'd been complaining of not being one hundred percent for the last few days, but neither of us thought it was something to worry too much about. After all, he was suffering form cancer-"_

"Exactly why you should have been worried," _thought Cameron._

"_-He was complaining of dizziness, feeling sick and headaches. He definitely didn't seem himself. I tried to get him let me take him to hospital but he wouldn't have it. He said he'd had enough of the treatments. He was giving up. Well, naturally the way he was talking scared me. I called you, not thinking he would die, more for you to come he and talk some sense into him. As I waited for your return he gradually deteriorated. By lunchtime he couldn't see. He couldn't hold his food down and seemed dazed. Still he refused medical treatment. By then I knew it would be too late anyway." James trailed off._

"_When did…it…happen?" Cameron struggled with the words._

"_At about five this evening. He was pretty rough by then. It was the best thing for him. I've never known anything attack so quickly. In truth it was good for him to go without too much pain."_

"How would you know? You're no doctor," _Allison paused in her thought. _"Nor am I."

"_Where is he now?" She asked._

"_The morgue. Do you want to see him?"_

_Allison shook her head. She didn't want the image of his dead body imprinted on her mind forever, a constant remainder of her failure as a wife._

_By now her tears were beginning to dry. She was soothed by the company of this man, the man she had once loved. Somehow things didn't quite feel real. She put it down to the shock._

"_Do you want to stay here for the night?" James offered._

_Allison declined. She wanted to be alone and think things over. When he offered her a lift home she accepted._

_Once back inside her apartment Allison slowly fell to the floor just two steps away form the door. She could hear James' footsteps fading away. Opposite her there was a photograph from her wedding day. Next to her stood her husband. They were so happy together. Softly she broke down into tears, curled up on the carpet, shaking in the agony of her bereavement._


	5. Playing the Fool

**Disclaimer - See chapter 1**

**Author's Note – Another chapter edited! I intend to reveal why Mark faked his death slowly over the next few chapters. There may be a few _Lost _style flashbacks, but I promise this isn't a crossover. It's just the best way for this story to work. Please keep the reviews coming - I love reading your thoughts, be it encouraging or criticising.

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"Owen Miller, age thirty two. Complaining of abdominal pain. Fainted in the clinic this morning." Dr House read off from the file in front of him. He looked across at the three doctors sat in front of him. "So? What could it be?" He prompted.

"This is a waste of our time. Surely a doctor on clinic duty could have sorted this one. Why did it need to come up to diagnostics?" Dr Foreman shared Cameron's dismissive attitude towards the case.

"He needs to be diagnosed. That's what we do at diagnostics. You think it's easy? Tell us what he has."

"It could be anything." Foreman was prompted to continue by a look from House that implied he knew Foreman couldn't diagnose it, "Most likely indigestion of perhaps fatigue." Foreman jumped to a similar conclusion as Cameron had not long before.

"Unlikely either of them would cause both symptoms." House declined the diagnosis.

"Ok then it could be both of them. Whatever it is it's something minor." Foreman was beginning to get annoyed, "Why are we doing this case?"

"Because Dr Cuddy gave it me. It means I get my wages at the end of the month. Ten bucks says you're wrong. If you're right it'll be a nice little boost to your pay packet."

"You're being childish."

"That wasn't a no."

Foreman sighed. He knew better than to take a bet with House but his competitive streak prevented him from declining. One day he would prove House wrong. Maybe today was that day. "OK," he accepted.

House smiled. It shouldn't be hard to prove him wrong. "Dr Chase. Just in case Dr Foreman here is incorrect, what do you suggest it is?"

"The syncope could have been caused by some sort of neurological disorder or just the pain," he suggested. He'd used the correct medical term in an attempt to impress. House had already put Foreman down today and Cameron was very quiet. Maybe a good performance would make him stand out from the crowd and earn him a few brownie points, or a bonus.

"What else?"

"Gastroenteritis, appendicitis, inflammatory bowel disease, possibly MI," Chase reeled them off.

"Good. Dr Cameron?" Allison looked up suddenly. She looked at House with a confused expression on her face that made it obvious to him that she hadn't been listening. "Differential diagnosis. Kind of important."

"Oh," Cameron felt herself beginning to blush. Her mind had been trying hard to make sense of what had just happened and had totally disregarded the situation around her. She turned to the white board where House had been writing Chase's ideas. Foreman's suggestion was in brackets at the top. "It could be caused by drugs. Both addiction and withdrawal could cause the symptoms." House added it to the list before adding sickle cell and typhoid to the bottom.

"OK, Dr Chase organise a physical. Cameron get me an MRI and a history, see if we can cross of drugs or intestinal problems. Foreman you can help her and then sort out some urine samples for testing."

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Allison was preparing for the MRI alone. Dr Foreman had decided to visit the pharmacy before coming up to help her out so that he could get some antacids which he could use to treat what he thought was a simple case. Cameron couldn't complain. She savoured the peace and the opportunity to think things over. She was finally coming to terms with the fact that her husband was alive. Right now she only had two clear thoughts in her head - that she hated him and that this needed to be kept secret. Hopefully she could come to some sort of arrangement with him about a divorce quietly without anybody knowing who he really was and he could disappear again. Of course she'd want him to pay her back for six years of pain and guilt first.

Eric Foreman entered the room, closely followed by a nurse pushing a wheelchair. Its occupant watched Cameron carefully as they lifted him into place for his MRI. It was only then that Foreman introduced himself and Cameron before explaining what the test would do. "…Dr Cameron will stay here outside the chamber to keep a close eye on your vitals. If anything goes wring she'll be able to pull you out and try her best to save you," Cameron tried her best to ignore the part of her that denied this. To leave a patient to die in front of a colleague would just be stupid. "I'll be in the next room monitoring what comes through form the test. You'll also be able to talk to me and I'll be able to reply through an intercom system." Foreman explained. "Don't worry, you're in good hands."

"I'm sure Dr Holloway will keep a good watch," Mark smiled. Allison's stomach tightened. Would he reveal her secret there and then?

"It's Dr Cameron," Foreman corrected.

"Sorry, my mistake," he glanced at Cameron who gave him an icy glare which Foreman missed. He was preoccupied with a thought.

"How's your memory been recently Mr Miller?" he asked.

Mark looked shocked. "Oh…OK I guess."

"You agree with Chase? That it could be neurological?" Cameron questioned.

"It's worth keeping an eye on." Foreman left to prepare the MRI, which gave Allison an opportunity to turn on Mark.

"_Holloway!_" she hissed. "Don't call me that, especially in front of colleagues."

"What's the matter? Ashamed of your husband now are you?"

"You are not my husband. They don't know I was ever married and they don't need to. _You are just another patient_." Cameron stressed the final sentence to emphasise her point, while trying to hide the fact that she was arguing with him form Foreman, who could clearly see her from the adjoining room. Their conversation was cut short before Allison could get Mark to agree by Foreman signalling to her to begin the MRI.

As Mark slid slowly into the chamber Dr Cameron turned towards the heart rate monitor. It read out normal results, but she wasn't paying attention. She was trying to hide her face from Foreman, a few frustrated tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. She was sick with fear at the prospect of having to reveal his true identity. "_How did this happen?_" she thought to herself. "_Why is he back?_"


	6. Philadelphia

**Disclaimer - See Chapter 1**

**Author's Note - First of all apologies if the Bank of Philadelphia really is a bank. I'm British and have never been to America so I just came up with a name. If the Bank of Philadelphia is a real company than it can be added to the disclaimer. Only one newly edited chapter today as I've had to completely rewrite the first half of this one. I advise that you read this chapter again, even if you have read the original, just the get the gist of things. Thank you for all the reviews. Please keep them coming. I love all my reviewers; even the one's who criticise!

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_**January 17th 1998 - Bank of Philadelphia**_

_Omar Booker had never been the most conventional of bankers. His people skills would often leave much to be desired and his advice could be described by some as controversial. However, he had climbed the promotional ladder at The Bank of Philadelphia speedily and effectively by presenting impressive results to his superiors. While his colleagues secretly accused him of faking them there was in fact no denying it, Omar was good at his job. He would take the time to read up on each of his customers before meeting them and on their arrival would take a moment to analyse their behaviour while entering some meaningless information on a fake spreadsheet. This gave him the edge over his fellow employees, the ability to become the character that the customer before him would respond mostly to. Should that require him to be blunt and insulting or charming and friendly, Omar would do whatever it took to get what he wanted._

_Today's 3 o'clock was a difficult man to sum up. On a first glance he looked well off, respectable even, but his finance history disagreed with this. So did his body language. On entering the room he had appeared nervous, as though he was having a meeting with his boss which would inevitably end in him getting fired. Omar smiled to himself. Perhaps this was true. After all, it was clear that the customer knew that things weren't going well, and that he had been asked to make an appointment because of a decision made by the bank's superiors. _

_Omar decided to begin the conversation in the character he found most people responded to - harsh and matter of fact. He looked down at the file lying on his desk to remind him of the customer's name before beginning._

"_Mr Holloway, I've called you here today to tell you some bad news. The bank has decided to recall all its loans to you and your company '_Holloway Motors'. _Too much money has been lost on you Mr Holloway. Your company is a black hole. The bank's superiors have advised this recall. There is nothing I can do to stop it."_

_The customer began to protest, but his attempts were futile. It soon became apparent that what had been said was true. There was nothing that could be done to stop the recall. "What can I do? I'm getting married in three weeks. I'll have the beginnings of a family and no money." Mr Holloway asked._

_Omar sighed. He had misinterpreted this man. It was clear that behind a misleading exterior lay the heart of a man who truly cared. A man who tried desperately to do what was best but had been battered by multiple failures. Now Omar was presenting him with another in the cruellest possible way. He realised that he must change his tact quickly. He softened his voice and made his expression more sympathetic than punishing. "I'm afraid the best thing you can do is sell your company and announce yourself bankrupt." Mr Holloway looked at the floor and Omar could see his hopes for the future dashing away in an instant. In a poor attempt to console the man sat in front of him Omar uttered the nine words that would change the course of one woman's life forever. "I hope for your sake your fiancée is rich."

* * *

_

Dr Eric Foreman was stood at the end of Mark's bed collecting the few dregs of a history this patient seemed to have. He'd searched the medical records for "Owen Miller" but received only the results of a six-year-old boy from Boston. When he'd asked Mark why this was he'd muttered something about moving around the country a lot and the records must have got mixed up. While Foreman doubted that this was the case he had to accept that this was a possibility and so set about getting as much information as possible.

"Any history of diabetes in your family?" Foreman looked across at Mark, who looked a little unsure of himself.

"I don't know. I'm adopted and have never tried to contact my biological family." Mark shot him an apologetic smile.

"So you wouldn't know about any heart or lung disease, or a history of cancer?" Mark shook his head and Foreman sighed in reply.

"Where's Dr Holloway?" Mark asked. "She said she'd be helping out with the history thing after you did the MRI. Stood you up has she?"

Foreman frowned. "Dr _Cameron_ is collecting the MRI results. She'll be here when she's done. As for Dr Holloway, there isn't one in this hospital."

"Sorry." Foreman let it drop, but decided to remember it for later.

"Do you know what vaccinations you've had Mr Miller?"

"I know I had everything I was supposed to when I was a kid. I haven't had anything for a while, not since I went to India a few years ago. Was I supposed to?"

"Unlikely," Foreman reassured him, "but we'll have to check once we've sorted out your records. That'll be all for now. Has Dr Chase done your physical yet?" Mark nodded in confirmation.

Foreman left the room and looked over his notes. Barely anything was there. House wouldn't be pleased, but that wasn't what bothered him. He looked up to see Allison coming out of the lift and called her over.

"I'm worried about the patient. He's showing definite signs of memory loss and possibly even a mental disorder."

Cameron looked concerned, although it wouldn't surprise her. In her book only someone seriously messed up would fake their own death. "What gave you that idea?"

"He referred to you as Dr Holloway again."

Cameron's heart sank. Mark hadn't given up. Would he spend his whole time at the hospital secretly tormenting her? "He's done that twice, Foreman. He's probably just got me confused with someone else."

"Yeah, and I've corrected him twice. I've made sure he knew. On top of that you've introduced yourself to him and members of staff have referred to you as 'Cameron' God knows how many times around him."

"You're over reacting." Allison tried hard to defend Mark's behaviour, and her secret.

"Don't you think it's a little odd?"

"Yeah, a _little_ but aren't you looking too far outside the box. You haven't even disproved your fatigue and indigestion theory yet."

"Looking outside the box is what we're employed to do. I'm going to speak to House about this." Foreman made as though to walk off, but was stopped by Cameron blurting out his name. He looked back to her with and mixed expression of surprise and intrigue.

Cameron sighed. She hadn't intended to call Foreman back, it had just jumped out. It was as though her subconscious had decided the correct course of action for her. She was going to have to say something. She checked down the corridor before leading Foreman into an empty room.

"Why the secrecy?" Foreman was rapidly becoming confused.

"Just hear me out on this one Eric please. Don't go jumping to conclusions or anything. Just let me talk." She used his Christian name in an attempt to appeal to 'Foreman the Friend' rather than 'Foreman the Colleague'. "The patient's name isn't Owen Miller. What medical records you've found on him are probably fake, or just not his. His real name is Mark Holloway." Allison faltered. She couldn't believe she was actually telling somebody this. It was humiliating for starters but this person's life, and death, had been kept secret from almost everyone she knew today. Now, suddenly, the truth was coming out. She looked at the floor.

"He's my husband."


	7. Hearts and Minds Lie to us All

**Disclaimer – See chapter 1**

**Author's Note – As it was originally, this chapter is pretty short. It is necessary though to break into the next stage of the story. As always enjoy the chapter and please review!

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Eric Foreman stared at his colleague. He could see that her eyes where desperately trying to read his thoughts, but right at that moment he didn't have any. Knowing that Allison would want a response he forced himself to consider what she had just revealed. This didn't add up. Cameron couldn't hide something that big from her fellow employees. Every Christmas she came to the staff parties alone, sometimes she even brought a boyfriend. She had spent a few months at least last year pursuing House. She wouldn't cheat; she wasn't that kind of person.

Foreman momentarily compared Cameron to Wilson. They were so different. Not only in their personalities, but in the way they acted around the opposite sex. With Wilson there was confidence on the outside but a lingering stench of betrayal and secretiveness gave him away. Cameron wasn't like that at all. No, he decided. Owen Miller, or Mark Holloway, or whoever, was not her husband.

"Don't lie to me Allison," he said. His voice was quiet and almost threatening. Cameron was stunned by his response.

"I…I'm not. Why would I?" she tried to reassure him.

"I have a good idea here and you know it. Wouldn't it be all too easy for you to throw me off the scent and present the theory as your own? Would get you into House's good books again, that's for sure. Not that you'd want that of course…" Foreman trailed off only too add to his sarcasm. Malice dripped from his every word. Cameron was hurt. She ignored his comment about her motives in an attempt to get him to believe her. Not only was she turning her friend against her, but Foreman may tell someone else about the "lies" that she had been telling.

"Eric I don't want that. Tell House if you want to. You'll only be proved wrong."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he ISN'T MAD, Foreman," Allison was getting desperate now. "He _is_ my husband. He is deliberately calling me by my married name to get at me."

Foreman looked at the woman standing in front of him. Her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. Part of him wanted to, but the other couldn't. The Cameron he knew still had the joys of marriage ahead of her. It was what he believed got her through the day. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by the consecutive sounds of Cameron's and his pagers going off.

* * *

Drs Foreman and Cameron rushed into their only patient's room together, but only Foreman continued to his bedside. Allison had stopped; her heart beat drumming inside her head, and was slowly taking in the scene. Chase and Nurse Roberts were already tending to the patient. The nurse was attaching Mark to a heart rate monitor, while Chase was providing him with an oxygen mask.

"What happened?" Foreman questioned.

"I just came in to sort out that physical when he started to fight for breath. Within ten seconds he couldn't speak," Chase replied. The situation now under control he turned to look at his colleague. "Guess that knocks your theory on the head," he said triumphantly to Foreman and left the room.

Foreman looked over to Cameron, searching her for any sort of sign he could. In this job he came across hundreds of traumatised wives, many of whom had had the unfortunate opportunity to witness a similar problem. They were always panicked, often distraught, but rarely as calm as the woman in front of him. He didn't know whether it was the fact that she had seen just as many similar situations or the fact that she did not love the man lying in the bed next to him, but Cameron looked barely affected the incident. Surely she would allow something to show if it was her husband. Foreman left the room, leaving Cameron alone with only Mark for company.

The truth was Allison hid her feelings well. She had always tried her best to when it involved Mark. From when he was diagnosed to the day of his funeral, she had only allowed a select few see what she really felt. But years without practice had left their mark. Her bottom lip quivered as she looked across at the now sleeping man, the slow rhythmic beep that announced his heart rate cutting through her defences. He was suddenly so pale, and depending on the mask for air. It was as though she was being punished for not being there for him when he had died the first time. She knew she shouldn't care for him. She was aware of what he had done, and what he had put her through. She didn't love him, but she didn't want him to come to any harm. She bit her lip and exited the room quickly, before the wall she put up to hide her feelings for him was completely shattered.


	8. Now or Never

**Disclaimer – See chapter 1**

**Author's Note –Another chapter up! I'm on a role tonight! All those wanting to know more about what Mark did, don't worry, you don't have too long to wait – I've only got one more chapter to edit. Enjoy the chapter and please review, even if it's just to criticise. It's useful to have feedback!

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Lunchtime had been and gone. Four doctors and a white board stood in the glass walled room, all doing their bit to save the patient. All except Allison Cameron. She was doing her bit to keep the now untrustworthy Foreman from spilling her secret. No one was having much success.

Many of the possible conditions recorded on the board that morning had be erased and replaced by new ideas. Chase's neurological idea was being looked at with interest, but not many viable suggestions presented themselves from it.

"Dr Chase, you did that physical, right?" House queried.

"Sure," he replied and opened the folder he was holding. "Stethoscope revealed rhonchi in the lungs, otherwise everything seemed fine. In himself he seemed tired, but that may just be down to stress."

"Rhonchi…"House thought. "What could that mean, Dr Cameron?"

For the second time today Allison was caught unawares. She looked at him suddenly and then tried to hide the fact she hadn't been listening to him. House saw straight through it.

"Rhonchi, Cameron. I'm sure that dying patient outside would appreciate it if you at least _tried_ to help him."

Allison blushed. She pushed the nagging thought in her brain which House's rant had just sparked to the back of her mind and allowed the doctor inside her come forward. "Rhonchi would indicate some sort of partial obstruction in the lungs. Most probably mucus, but could be water, or tar if he's a smoker."

"Good, when you got there. Foreman, I see you have the history results. Is he a smoker?"

Foreman looked into the file and saw the pitiful results in front of him. Luckily he had asked this question, but was worried how House would react when he saw the results for himself. "The patient _says_ no," he replied.

"You don't believe him?"

"Everybody lies," Foreman quoted the other doctor. "Could be smoking on the quiet. Worried a naggy wife may find out." He looked deliberately at Cameron, who stared back.

"What else you got?"

Foreman stalled before answering. He would just have to do his best to cover up. "He's had all the correct vaccinations, went to India a few years back but contracted nothing, unaware of any illnesses in his family…" Foreman reeled them off; trying to sound like it was any other case with a full history. Unfortunately House misread this.

"Just because you find the history unimportant Foreman doesn't mean everyone else agrees. What did you find in his records?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" The older doctor repeated. "Surely he's been ill once in his life. No chickenpox as a kid? No measles? No broken limbs?" Seeing Foreman's negative expression he stopped his list. "Is this the first time he's been out of the house? Because either you've screwed up or found a medical miracle and are going to make us all very rich."

"Unless Owen Miller has been drinking at the fountain of youth and has managed to shed twenty four years in the last half hour then yes, nothing," Foreman snapped.

House looked suspiciously over to Cameron. "I told you to work on the history too. What do you know?"

Inside her conflict was brewing. While she was desperate to keep her secret, she wanted to save Mark. She had always believed that the death penalty was too harsh. Normally it would be given to murders, people who had committed hideous acts, and yet she would never serve it. How could she hand it out to a man who had, in the grand scheme of things, done barely anything wrong? Ok, he'd caused her pain, but she liked to think she had recovered. She'd even got some money from his life insurance. But then again, the repercussions of telling the truth could be disastrous.

Allison took a deep breath. "I wasn't there. I was still getting the MRI results. Foreman offered to do the history alone." It hurt her to do this, but she knew any other option would hurt more.

"I told you to do this together," House was angry at the lack of information he was being given. Cameron could sense it and was a little scared. She didn't like him in his moods, especially when it was combined with his own intrigue. Often it'd cause her to blurt something out, like her dead husband actually being alive. "You did the MRI, what did it show up?"

"There's something around the lungs, but it's unclear. There is nothing around the abdominal area, where he was complaining of the pain." Cameron replied.

House considered this new information before turning back to Foreman. "Are you sure that's all you got from his history?"

"Yes," Foreman paused. He might as well tell him, seeing as he doubted Cameron was telling the truth. "I…I did get the impression the patient may have some sort of mental problem."

House was suddenly interested. "What do you mean?"

"It could be something to do with his memory, I'm not sure. It seemed pretty isolated. He insisted on calling Cameron 'Dr Holloway', no matter how much he was corrected. It may also explain the lack of information he gave for his history. Maybe he can't remember." Throughout this discussion Foreman had avoided looking at Cameron, but knew that she was glaring at him.

"Could also explain him having no medical records," pondered Chase. "He may not remember his name."

"Interesting idea but how does that fit in with abdominal pain and difficulty breathing?" House questioned.

"Could be two problems," Chase suggested.

"Unlikely."

"If you'd have suggested it-" Chase started.

"If I'd have suggested it I'd have been right. Did you notice anything to hint at a mental problem?"

"No."

"I doubt it is a mental problem. There's not enough evidence to suggest it. Other than Foreman's hunch nobody's noticed anything. It's nothing more than coincidence."

"No," Foreman seemed annoyed that his idea was being shunned, "it IS a good idea. You've beaten me once today, let me have this one." House looked stunned, but not as much as he was about to be.

Across the room Cameron was fighting a battle inside her and failing miserably. "Foreman," she warned. "You know you're wrong."

House quickly changed sides. "He's as good a doctor as you. What makes you so sure he's wrong?" It was bait. He wanted to embarrass her, make her admit her motive for always siding with him.

Cameron paused. In a job like hers every minute counts. Wasting those precious following ideas that could be easily disproved if she would just speak up was not the right thing to do. The longer she waited, the worse Mark's condition could be.

It was now or never.


	9. Pot Plants Don't Spread Rumours

**Disclaimer – See chapter 1**

**Author's Note – Woohoo! This is the last chapter I needed to edit. After this it's new material all the way! In this chapter I have used the phrase "ward sister". I don't know if that's what they are called in America. I mean the nurse in charge of a ward or department. As always thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming!

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Allison Cameron looked across at her colleagues. Each wore a different expression, which revealed their expectations of her answer. Chase looked confused. It was obvious that he did not understand why House had quickly switched teams, or why their conversation had taken such a sudden twist. House seemed annoyed. He clearly didn't expect her to answer, and yet seemed to be prompting her to do so. He wanted to hear her feeble excuse, as though that would give him some sort of power kick. Foreman's expression was one of shock. Finally realisation had hit him – Cameron had been telling the truth. Unfortunately it was too late to do anything about it.

Cameron gulped and then began. "Foreman is wrong because he knows partially who Owen Miller really is-"

She was cut off by House. He quickly turned to look at Foreman. "You _knew_ who the patient was and yet insisted on presenting information he'd given under a false name?"

"I thought she was lying," Foreman burst out. He turned to Cameron. "How can you expect me to believe something like that?

"Wait, you knew this too?" House turned to Cameron. "How unprofessional can this get?"

"It has nothing to do with profession. This is personal," she replied. Boy, would she regret telling him this. "Today I've made a few discoveries, come across a few surprises. One of them was the true identity of our patient. The Owen Miller lying in a bed in our department is not who you think he is, nor is he a six year old boy from Boston. His name is Mark Holloway, from Philadelphia."

"Holloway? Isn't that what Foreman said he'd been calling you?" Chase spoke up, but it was House who answered.

"Of course. He's her husband."

Cameron stared at House, ignoring Chase's own stare at her. "You _knew_?" She was aghast. How could he possibly know? He'd only found out she had been married a few months ago. He couldn't possibly have tracked down her husband, discovered he was actually alive and somehow convinced him to go to New Jersey in such a short time. House was nosy, but he would never go to such lengths just to satisfy his own intrigue.

"Not till just now. It all adds up. I already knew you had been married. The way you've been acting all day, like you've got something on your mind, it raises suspicions you know. You said it was personal. He kept calling you Holloway and you insisted that it wasn't because he was mad." House looked pleased with himself. Cameron remained suspicious, but then reminded herself that he could diagnose an illness with less information. Given his interest in other people's lives she was surprised he hadn't worked it out earlier.

"You're married?" Chase finally spoke.

"_Was,_" Cameron paused and sighed. "Still am." She really didn't want to go into this, aware that within ten minutes of them leaving the room the whole hospital would know. Maybe it would just be best to tell the truth now before the hurtful rumours began to circulate, started by the nursing staff's attempts to fill any gaps in her story she had left untold.

She took a deep breath. "It was…a while ago. I was still in med school. I met him one day and fell in love. We got engaged quickly, and then waited ten months to actually marry. I knew it was too good to last. Just before we got married Mark was diagnosed with cancer," she paused and looked at her shoes. Their delicate stitching was suddenly very interesting to her. "I stood at the alter wondering just how far away 'till death do us part was,'" a single tear fell from the corner of her eye and she took a deep breath. Should she really be telling this to her colleagues?

"I went to visit my sister and her new baby the next Christmas. She lives in Britain and Mark didn't want to come. A friend of his offered to let him stay with him to keep Mark company while I was away. I thought it was a good idea; there was someone there to keep an eye on him. A couple of days into my stay and the phone rang. Something had gone wrong. By the time I got back to Philadelphia, where we lived, he was…dead."

"And yet he's lying in a bed down the corridor." Foreman couldn't help but still remain a little sceptical.

"I didn't identify the body. I couldn't bring myself to. James, the man Mark was staying with offered to do it. I can only assume he did. I attended his funeral, catered for the wake, grieved with his friends."

"His family didn't care?" House questioned.

Cameron shot him a hateful look. "He has no family. He told some truth to Foreman, although he wasn't adopted," she thought a moment before continuing her story. "Until today I didn't suspect anything. It was only when I saw him being wheeled in this morning I began to sense something strange going on. Even then, I thought I was mad."

"Why isn't he dead?" Chase asked. It maybe wasn't the most sensitive thing to ask, but then again it wasn't like there was any sort of appropriate behaviour for discovering your colleague's husband-that-you-didn't-know-about was in fact not dead.

"I don't know. We haven't spoken much. Just…shouted," Cameron blushed. "I have no idea what's going on, but what I do know is that he's alive."

There was a pause while everyone got used to this information before House spoke up. "You two, see if those samples are back form the lab. Cameron, I want you to stay here and go through what you know of the patient's history with me."

* * *

It was evening and the night shift was just beginning. Most of the diagnostics team had gone home, each reminding the ward sister that they were just a phone call away. All apart from House, who reminded her that his phone was broken, as it had been for the last twenty-one months. Phone companies just aren't what they used to be.

Cameron was the only member of the team remaining. She had been hiding out in the office until things had gone quiet. Unsurprisingly, Foreman and Chase had managed to let it slip about her husband to a couple of members of staff on their way to and from the lab, who promptly alerted anyone else they set eyes on – be it member of staff, patient or pot plant.

Two things had surprised Cameron though. First was that House hadn't tried to find anything more out from her. She had assumed his motive for sending Chase and Foreman to the lab was so that he could question her in peace, without people with the slightest hint of a conscience there to try to defend her. However, he had remained true to his word and only asked her suitable questions about their patient's history. It seemed he really did just want to save his patient.

The second thing to surprise Allison was that neither Cuddy nor Stacey had visited her. She believed Cuddy would want to speak to her about the implications of treating your husband, even if he was supposedly dead, while Stacey would be pestering her to be her lawyer if any of this went to court – which it could well do.

Cameron reached up to the peg on the wall and placed her perfect white lab coat on it. She then collected her long, heavy winter coat and chunky knit scarf from the peg next the peg next to it. She collected her bag and headed for the door.

As she walked down the corridor she could she Mark who was now sitting up in his bed. An orangey light fell over him for the cheap temporary light bulb above him. As she neared his room he saw her and gestured for her to come inside. Part of her wanted to – she was relived to see him back up and wanted to check that he was ok. However another, stronger part of her surged with hate. She was annoyed at him for leaving her, and for chickening out of telling her why by faking his own death. She hated him for causing her so much upset in her life, and for what she knew was yet to come.

Without a second thought she continued down the corridor and into the lift, which would lead her to her car and the safety of home.


	10. Wednesday Morning

**Disclaimer – Chapter 1**

**Author's Note – At long, long last a brand new, never seen before chapter. I've got back into the swing of things and am enjoying the new turn the story is about to follow. I hope you enjoy it too. Let me know your thoughts by writing a review – it can be good or bad as all feedback is useful! Enjoy.

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For the second day running, Allison Cameron found herself standing outside her home scraping ice off her car windscreen. It was as though Princeton was off the map, as weather forecasters across the networks continued to predict higher than average temperatures for the time of year. It was an eerie feeling that Princeton seemed to have become its own country, separate from the rest of the world without anybody noticing.

The drive in was surprisingly fast considering the icy conditions and Allison arrived at the hospital, as she had hoped, at least an hour before the rest of the Diagnostics' team normally arrived. The long, cold night had given her an opportunity to think things over and she had decided upon a plan of action. It was best for her to begin things early when there was little risk of someone distracting her.

It was natural, therefore, that Allison was surprised to see a light on in her department's conference room where the many heated differential diagnosis sessions took place. All of her previous thoughts quickly vacated her mind as she began to wonder who was snooping around a staff only area. She quickly jumped to a conclusion and strained to see her husband's bed from her awkward viewpoint outside the lift. Allison squinted until she saw the rough outline of a sleeping figure inside his bed and she ruled out the possibility that he had broken in.

Cameron crept up to the conference room door and could see more clearly the silhouette of a man sitting with his back to her reading through what looked like a patient's file. She had no idea who the man could be. The rest of the team wouldn't be here for a long time and the cleaning staff would have left hours ago. Only the nurse on duty had access to the room and she was reading a magazine at the other end of the hallway. Allison could only think that Mark had got himself into trouble during his time away and now someone had come to find him.

While Allison knew she wouldn't be able to fight the stranger off she thought it was best for her to try to deal with the situation if only to quench her curiosity into what Mark had done since he had left her. With one hand on her panic alarm and the other on the metal door handle, Allison took a deep breath before entering the room.

"Excuse me sir, that's confidential information-" she stopped abruptly when she saw the intruder's face. "House," she sighed.

House stood up so that he was looking down on her. "Good morning to you too," he looked at her without smiling, instead summing up her appearance and taking in her tense posture and clearly visible panic alarm. He could so easily have been rude to her but knew Cameron too well to insult her when he wanted answers. "Something bothering you?"

"What are you doing here?" She spat at him. Her plans were ruined. Of all people to arrive early it had to be House. She would not get a moment's peace now.

"The same thing as you. We work together in case you hadn't noticed." Cameron scoffed and House's expression changed to one of interest. "You're not here to work?" he asked.

Allison paused. She couldn't say she was here because she wanted to work. She doubted he would have believed that even before she had inadvertently given it away. Telling the truth, however, would only increase his intrigue and getting rid of him would become even harder. Suddenly an idea came into her head. "I'm looking for Stacy," she replied with a polite but secretly triumphant smile on her face. She knew that if House didn't want to give her privacy around Stacy, the lawyer would make sure he did.

House stared at her for a moment trying to force the truth out, but Allison held his eye contact, making it clear that he would get no more answers. "Stacy is a lawyer - this is a diagnostics department. You seem to be lost. I'd try the third floor." His voice remained expressionless as he held her eye contact. They stared at each other a little longer each urging the other to break.

"Dr Cameron," a voice broke through the silence and both doctors turned to look where the sound had originated from. It was Cuddy. "I need to speak to you."

Allison took a step forward and felt a hand on her shoulder holding her back. "Actually Dr Cuddy, Dr Cameron here was just about to meet Stacy."

"This is more important."

"What is more important than an appointment with on of the hospital's lawyers?" House was stalling, trying to discover what Cuddy wanted Cameron for. Normally everything in this department revolved around him. He hated being out of the loop.

"A confidential discussion with her employer," Cuddy replied pointedly and gestured to Allison who put down her bag on the table and left behind her superior.

House sighed. It would take a lot of manipulating to reach the truth behind this case. A lot more than he was used to. He sat back down in his chair and looked at the leather bag in front of him. A newspaper cutting was sticking out of it slightly, inviting him to take a look. It was so tempting. Maybe it held a clue; perhaps a hint of Cameron's past. Then again it could be irrelevant, a photo of her niece who's got into the local paper for winning the local three-legged race or whatever her family got up to.

House decided to chance it. Looking about to check that no one would unexpectedly enter the room he reached out and took the cutting. There was an article under the heading "Police Search for Missing Salesman" about a man, David Miller, who had gone missing after taking a taxi home form a bar is Boston. The photograph alongside it had, according to the article, been taken just a couple of hours before he went missing and showed him with four friends at a table in the bar he had visited. House looked at the photograph carefully trying to find what had made Cameron keep the article. After a few moments he recognised someone sitting at the tabled behind the men, but he couldn't tell who it was. Undoubtedly the odds were that Cameron had seen him too. The question was, who was he?


	11. What Did You Do?

**Disclaimer – Chapter 1**

**Author's Note – I'm back! Exams are over and I've got a lot of spare time on my hands, at last. It's perfect for writing. I've had a little practice in the form of a Doctor Who oneshot and hopefully will slip quickly back into this story. I've planned it all to the end now so hopefully it should be complete by the end of next week, but I'm making no promises! This chapter is a bit of a filler but it does contain important things which will be mentioned in later chapters. It's not my best work but I needed it to get started again. This would have been up last week if it wasn't for some kind of glitch with the Documents Manager. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to leave a review – good or bad, I want to hear your views!

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Without saying a word Dr Cuddy lead Allison through the hospital and to her office. There she sat down behind her large wooden desk and, after pausing a moment, gestured to Allison to follow suit. She took in the younger doctor's worried expression and sighed. "This must be one of the first times you've been in here since you were hired. It's funny; I've never had a reason to ask you here. Now, suddenly, there are so many things I need to speak about." She paused. It wasn't an indication for Allison to speak, rather a moment to organise her thoughts before she began again.

"Before we go any further I'd like to make sure the rumours are true and that this isn't just another case of hospital gossip. Dr House's patient, Owen Miller, is definitely your husband?"

Cameron nodded before correcting her. "His name is Mark Holloway."

Cuddy noted this down on a scrap piece of paper before continuing. "I should issue you with a warning about the dangers of treating relatives and remove you from House's team for this case-" at this point Allison opened her mouth to protest. Cuddy held her hand up "-but I won't. I can't afford to replace you right now and having you working on his case may keep the patient sweet. However, if you can't prove to me that your still doing your job you will be removed."

"I understand," Cameron hesitated before continuing. "Was that all you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Not exactly. Yesterday a police officer called me to ask if we have a patient named Daniel Cameron. I told him that we didn't. I wondered whether the name was familiar to you."

Cameron's mind raced. She had a pretty good idea who Daniel Cameron was, and now it seemed the police were looking for him. She could own up and hand him over to the police - that would definitely be the right thing to do. It would be the moral thing to do. The only problem was it wasn't the right thing for her. She still had so many questions to ask, so many answers to find and so many things to do that she couldn't let him go. Not yet anyway. She decided to do the only thing she could do – tell the truth.

"I don't know anyone called Daniel Cameron," she told the other woman. After all, it was true; it just wasn't the whole truth.

* * *

A couple of hours passed. Allison had had her meeting with Stacy and was now spending her lunch break sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair in her husband's room. An uncomfortable silence lay between them as he watched her pick at a salad that she had brought in with her. They'd barely spoken a word since she'd entered.

"So, did you want to say something to me or did you just want me to watch you marvel at a cherry tomato for half an hour?" Mark finally piped up.

Without looking up Allison pondered his question before finally deciding to say the thing that had been bothering her all morning. "What did you do?"

Mark looked shocked. "Excuse me?"

"What did you do?" She finally built up the courage to look him in the eye.

"What makes you think I _did_ anything?"

"You must have faked your death for some reason Mark. Now the police are calling the hospital asking for a Daniel Cameron." He tensed at this and she laughed bitterly. "Nice choice of name."

"Well I could hardly call myself Susan," he spat. It was another name Allison recognised, and the closest thing she'd get from Mark to him admitting he was on the run from the police.

"What did you do?" She repeated her question again. Mark broke her eye contact and hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak just as the door opened.

"I'm sorry, are you busy?" The room's new occupant asked and Mark jumped at the opportunity.

"No, not at all. Just catching up," he smiled. "So, who are you?"

Allison sighed. "This is Stacy Warner. She's a lawyer for the hospital and has agreed to do some work for me," she smiled bitterly at her husband. "I thought it was about time we got a divorce."


	12. Moving On

**Disclaimer – See Chapter 1**

**Author's Note – Another brand new chapter for you here. There's still about six or seven left but hopefully the pace will pick up from here on in. This chapter skips about through time a bit so I've labeled each section with a date so as to make it a little clearer. The flash backs are in _itallics _as usual. As always, I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know your thoughts, good or bad, in the form of a review.

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_**January 20th 1998 – Philadelphia**_

_In a small flat situated a few blocks from the city's university of medicine sat a man, still dressed in a pair of pyjamas even though it was nearing midday. The room was poorly lit by the small crack of sunlight allowed in by the dirty window, framed by fading curtains introduced to the room many years before its current occupier moved in. Currently she was at a lecture and so her fiancé was left to contemplate the unfortunate situation himself and his future wife, though unknowingly to her, were in._

_The man, who would only remain known as Mark Holloway for a matter of months now, had pondered his bank manager's words for the past couple of days and was now, finally, reaching a conclusion. Basically, he was going to have to declare himself bankrupt – there was no escaping it. Or was there? Mark suddenly looked up and smiled. He connected this thought with another, which had been haunting him since the meeting. "I hope for your sake your fiancée is rich". That was what the bank manager had said. "For _your _sake." _

_He could save both of them. He could make her rich, make her happy. The only thing was he may have to make a sacrifice or two. Of course Mr. Booker had not intended his words to be misinterpreted in such a way and would be horrified to discover their eventual effect, if only for a moment. However, the course had now been set. Mark got up from where he sat and headed for the telephone. It was time for him to make a few phone calls.

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_

**December 28th 2005 – Princeton**

The sun was beginning to set behind the hospital building as another bitter night tightened its grip on the city. The sunset was particularly beautiful and caught the attention of both staff and patients throughout the hospital. However, it didn't have this effect in the diagnostics department. Being such a specialist area of medicine the ward rarely had more than one patient and today was no different. Like the majority of hospital employees in the department, this patient was otherwise engaged.

Drs Foreman and Chase where attending to the patient, who was writhing in pain and seemed barely able to breathe. There was sweat streaming across his twisted face as Foreman took his temperature and read off the obvious results – Mark had a fever. With that the two doctors left to find their boss, leaving a nurse to care for their patient. The conclusion they had reached from their brief visit to the patient was etched clearly across their faces in worry. Mark had taken a sudden turn for the worse and they still had no idea what was wrong with him.

* * *

**_August 14th 1997 – Philadelphia_**

_They lay entangled in the thin white sheets and allowed the morning sun to caress their skin. Neither wanted to move, both content to lie there for hours. But someone would have to move eventually._

_Allison rolled over to look at her boyfriend. She took in every detail of his face, from his short blonde hair and the small scar below his left eye, to the shape of his chin. He opened one eye and smiled at her. "Will you stop staring at me? You're creeping me out."_

_Allison returned his grin. "It's nice."_

_He shifted closer to her, his eyes now fully open. "What's nice?"_

"_Lying here, with you."_

_He smiled again. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He closed his eyes. "I could stay here with you forever."_

_Allison laughed. "Like you ever could Mark."_

_Mark opened his eyes and looked deeply into hers. When he spoke again his voice was serious. "I could, and I will." _

_Allison's expression softened. "You'd be happy to buy a house and stop travelling? You'd be Ok with driving a Volvo estate and being a respectful businessman, married to a local doctor?" Her eyes no longer mocked him, now they told him of the longing she had for this life._

_He smiled reassuringly. "We could have two kids, a boy and a girl, and a Golden Retriever."_

"_Susan," Allison suggested._

"…_and Daniel," Mark smiled at her._

"_We should do that one day," it was barely a mummer. She pretended to be drifting off back to sleep in an attempt to avoid the reprisal she feared. But it didn't come._

"_Yeah," he replied and her eyes shot open. He smiled understandingly at her. He understood that he wasn't the first person you'd expect to be willing to settle down. "Why don't we make a start?" There was no answer. He took this to be a signal for further information, and prayed to God he was right. "Why don't we get married?" He couldn't believe he'd said that, and he could see the disbelief on Allison's face too. He felt no regret though._

"_Was that a proposal?" she asked nervously, lifting her head up from the pillow._

"_Yeah, I guess it was."_

_She paused a second before placing her head back down. "Ok then." She gave him a small kiss on the forehead and smiled to herself. "_Always the romantic, was Mark_," she thought to herself._


	13. Time

**Disclaimer – See chapter 1**

**Author's Note – A bit of a medical chapter this one. While it may be a little boring its still very important so I suggest you don't skip over it! I've just realised that I said that this fiction would be between series one and two, which shows how old it is (though in my defence series 2 didn't start in the UK until February). Series 2 finished over here last night (which was AMAZING by the way!) and I've thought over the timing and have decided to leave it between 1 and 2 rather than 2 and 3 because I've mentioned characters like Stacy and dated it in 2005. Also, I realise series 2 started in America last Autumn, yet this fiction is set in December/January but lets just say series 2 started in February throughout the world so I have no more issues with the time. Anyways, my hopefully clarifying rant is now over. Hope you enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review. Good or bad, I want to hear what you have to say!

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The blanket of darkness that had engulfed the city allowed the hospital to become its own little world disconnected from life outside. Barely anybody inside was aware that it was night. The staff rushed about on there endless missions of curing, cleaning and caring. The patients sat and stared at walls or TVs and allowed time to wash over them as they waited to be freed, while those that cared for them concentrated solely on their healing. For the family and friends of a patient time was not marked by the transition from day to night and back once more to day, it was tracked by their loved one's gradual healing or deterioration. These people were as devoted to the patient's healing process as the doctors assigned to the case, perhaps even more.

This was what bothered House. The family of patients always have their own suggestion as to what is wrong with their loved one. Said suggestion is usually ridiculously incorrect, but at least they try. At least they care. He'd always believed that if he ever witnessed a doctor treat a member of their own family they would go into medical overdrive, fighting furiously to save this person's life. Now, at last, he had the opportunity to watch such a case and he realised that his hypothesis was wrong. He was midway through the forth differential diagnosis of the day, seventh overall on this particular case, and still Dr Cameron would only make a suggestion if he forced her to do so. He understood that she was shocked, and her husband probably wasn't her favourite person on Earth right now considering he had faked his own death, but surely some part of her wanted to save him. She's longed to be reunited with him for years and, even in such unusual circumstances, he was certain that she'd someday want to get to know him again.

House allowed this internal discussion to take place as he pretended to watch Chase and Foreman argue over which step would be the best one to take next. One doctor believed they should do a second load of blood tests as there was any number of reasons why they could have received a false result. The other thought they should try using an x-ray to find infiltrates which would diagnose an infection. House disagreed with both of them. If the patient had an infection it could take a long time to find out which one, time they don't have. They'd already done an MRI, which should produce much clearer results than an x-ray, and had only found cloudiness around the lungs. They had no concrete evidence of what could be wrong. Even the urine tests had come back negative. Unless someone could come up with a disease rather than a diagnostic procedure the patient was in real danger.

"Dr Cameron," House cut across the argument, "what do you suggest?" Both Foreman and Chase looked annoyed at having their ideas completely ignored, but quietened down to hear what other possibilities they were missing.

Cameron considered the evidence for a moment before making her suggestion. She recognised that as the patient's condition worsened time was getting shorter. Now would be a good time to suggest something logical that would lead them down a path they hadn't already travelled. She looked across at the whiteboard. The symptoms were written down it in order that they had first shown in House's familiar black scrawl. "What about pneumonia?" she asked cautiously, unsure whether she was right.

House thought through this a moment. "It would explain the pain, the difficulty in breathing, even the fever."

"But surely it would have shown up on the urine or blood tests?" Chase was sceptical.

House acknowledged that this was true. "Perhaps it's playing hide and seek. We've gotta go deeper. Chase, your suggestion was worst, MRIs are better than x-rays at a diagnosis unless you've broken your leg. You can go and make sure the thoracentesis kit is available for tomorrow morning. The rest of you, go home. I want you back here early tomorrow."

"Thoracentesis can be extremely danger-" Foreman's protest was cut short.

"If you want to help this patient, _go home_. Enjoy it. Go read the lazy man's guide to patient care." With that he stormed out of the room and was soon followed by the three younger doctors who each headed in their separate directions.


End file.
